November Valentine
by moreawake
Summary: It's the middle of November, but once I realize what you are referring to, I smirk. Yes, we know exactly when  and where and how  this little guy came to being, and in a way, that actually does make him a Valentine's Day gift.


**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p><strong>November Valentine<strong>

So as it turns out, labor really is as bad as I remember. I've had a little more than a year and a half to make myself believe that it wasn't so terrible, but now that I'm bracing myself against the wall in the living room as another contraction passes, I am no longer convinced.

My outlook is better, though. It's a little easier to get through this knowing exactly how things went the last time. I remember you supporting me every step of the way despite your own nerves. You rubbed my back, put my hair up, fed me ice chips, and said such sweet and encouraging things to me, and then the moment our little girl made her debut, your eyes widened. Your mouth dropped open, and you gasped, and you were happier than I had ever seen anyone before. She was covered in a mixture of who-knows-what, and her little face was all squished, but you immediately declared her beautiful. And I agreed. You kissed me and thanked me, we cried with our foreheads pressed together, and when we finally had her in our arms, it didn't matter that it took almost 31 hours for her to arrive.

So that is what I am focusing on: how I felt afterwards when I had you right by my side and our brand new baby girl, calm and content against my chest.

That little girl is asleep upstairs right now. At twenty months old, she doesn't really understand what is going on, but she loves to point out babies whenever she sees one, and she gives her little "brudder" kisses through my shirt all the time. She has turned out to be the sweetest little thing, and I can't wait to see her as a "big sisser."

I also can't wait to see you become a dad all over again. I can't wait to see you with our little girl and boy together, the two perfect babies that we made together and love so much. But I do have to warn you—it's probably going to take me some time before I can look at the three of you without tearing up. I mean, I've been waiting for this since before we were even engaged, and now that it's finally happening, I'm a little overwhelmed in the best way possible. I love you and our kids and our life, and I am so excited to be a complete family.

Once the pain subsides, I catch my breath and look over at you in the flickering light of the television where you are asleep on the couch looking very much like our daughter: all stretched out with your arm flung over your forehead and a peaceful look on your face. I covered you with a blanket a while ago because after being so helpful and patient with me over the last month, you deserve a couple hours of rest. Today is going to be crazy, and at least one of us needs to get some sleep.

And besides, there really isn't much you can do for me now anyway. I appreciate so much that you massaged my feet and shoulders and tried to distract me with a movie marathon, but you were so panicky the last time I was at this stage of labor that it's probably for best that you aren't awake. You'll probably feel bad for falling asleep, but I'm okay. I've done this before, and I know you are right here if I need you.

I feel like I need to move now, though, so I watch you for a few more seconds and then decide to pace around the first floor of the house—from the living room, through the dining room, and into the moonlit kitchen where I stop to admire the photos on the refrigerator. At the top are two ultrasound pictures held side-by-side with a heart-shaped magnet: Cecelia Marie on the left and Phillip James on the right. It's funny how much their profiles look alike already. I laughed when you pointed it out when we were at the doctor's because I thought you were making a joke, but there really is a resemblance.

That was also the day that we found out that Phillip would be Phillip. You were so sure that we were expecting another girl, but once my doctor started looking, it was almost immediately apparent that our boy is _definitely_ a boy. We had a pretty good laugh over our little guy's lack of modesty, and when we got home, you put a picture of his facial silhouette right up next to Cece's, which, of course, made me cry.

I hope our son is just like you.

Just as I finish this thought, though, I feel my insides start to tense up again, and I groan, moving to lean against the counter. According to the clock on the microwave, they are officially six minutes apart now, and it hurts, it hurts, it _hurts_, and then it feels like a water balloon bursts.

My sweatpants are soaked, and even though I had hoped not to wake you for another hour, I think this is it. It's time to take Cece over to my mom's and head to the hospital to meet our littlest one.

I take a minute to recover and then make my way back to the living room like a waddling leaky faucet, feeling pretty gross and already exhausted, but when I reach you, I'm mostly just excited.

"Jim?" I whisper, lightly nudging your shoulder. "_Jim_, honey, I think it's about time to go."

"Hm?"

"My water broke."

"Mmkay. I'll fix it in the morning."

Huh?

Now, we always joke about how laidback we have been throughout this pregnancy, how we've done this all before so it's no big deal, but you just took that nonchalance to a whole new level.

I wait to see if this is one of your pranks, but when your breathing stays even, and your face shows no sign of breaking into a smirk, I know you are being completely serious. _Fix it in the morning_? Really, Jim? I love you, but I'm in labor. I'm standing in the living room in wet pants. I'm hours away from having to push _your_ 7 or 8-pound baby out of _my_ body, and yet… I decide to play along.

"Sweetie, it doesn't work like that. Once it breaks, it's broken."

You groan, press your face further into the throw pillow, and mumble something that sounds like, "_We can buy a new one_," and then I have to stifle laughter because, okay, now you've _really _outdone yourself. You _actually_ think that I'm waking you just to say that I broke some simple household appliance.

I wait again for you to come to your senses on your own, but when you don't, I gently run my fingers through your hair and try again.

"Jim, come on. I know that you're—"

And then it's like someone flips a switch in your brain. Your eyes snap open, a look of realization appears on your face, and you _finally_ swing your feet to the floor and bolt upright in a panic.

"Oh. Oh god. Did I fall asleep? I-is everything okay? Are you okay? What can I do?"

"Whoa, hey, relax," I laugh as I move to stand between your knees. Immediately, your arms arm circle my waist, and your warm hands on my lower back feel so good. We lean into each other, your cheek pressing into my belly, and I give you the closest thing I can to a hug right now because I'm huge and don't have long arms like you do. I feel bad because you are practically shaking, so I start to rub your back. "Everything is fine. My contractions are about six minutes apart, though, so once you fully wake up, I need you to go get Cece, okay?"

You look up at me with your eyebrows raised, like a kid on Christmas who has just been told that it's almost time to open presents.

"It's time to go?"

I grin and nod. "Yeah."

xx

Phillip James Halpert officially joins our family less than five hours later, weighing in at seven and a half pounds and measuring just over 21 inches long. With those stats, he is a little bit of a string bean, but according to your mother, that's typical of a Halpert baby. He has your ears, too. In fact, that's the first thing you say to me when we're holding him all cleaned up for the first time, and when I pull up on one side of the little knit cap covering his head of dark wispy hair, I smile because you're right. (And because it's completely adorable.)

Eventually, it's just the three of us in the room. The commotion and people are all gone, and all you and I can do is sit up in my bed and stare at our baby boy. He's asleep now—only awake long enough to make his way into the world, check things out for a few minutes, and then eat—but just watching him breathe has us both silently transfixed. We are so in awe of his mere existence that we can't even speak.

We have a _son_, Jim. Can you believe that? Whenever we come up on these huge milestones together, I can't help but reflect on how much we have grown, how much things have changed, and how much better things have gotten and keep getting. Six years ago, my life was stagnant. Five years ago, I was barely dragging myself out of bed in the morning, and now I have you _and_ a daughter _and _a son. I have the best family, and I'm suddenly thinking about how excited I am to send Christmas cards this year just so I can sign them with, "Love, The Halperts: Jim, Pam, Cecelia, and Phillip." Is that cheesy? I don't even care. I honestly think I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.

Phillip sighs and snuggles further into me, causing the two of us to break out into huge smiles as we gaze down at him. I may also be tearing up a little bit, but just ignore that. You know how insane my hormones have been this time around. I really can't help it now, though. He's just so amazing. I mean, everything he is comes from us, and even though I carried him for what seems like forever, I can't even begin to comprehend that. It's crazy. And just look at that sweet little round face. It's taking all my self-control not to just kiss his chubby pink cheeks repeatedly until he wakes up, and isn't it incredible that hands can be so tiny? One day, he is going to outgrow me and maybe even you, too, but today, he fits perfectly in my arms and can barely wrap his fist around your finger.

_Oh_, I just _love_ this boy. I can't wait to bring him home with us. I can't wait to see how he fits in with our family.

After a while, you kiss my temple and break the silence:

"Pretty great Valentine's Day gift, huh?"

It's the middle of November, but once I realize what you are referring to, I smirk. Yes, we know _exactly_ when (and where and how) this little guy came to being, and in a way, that actually does make him a Valentine's Day gift.

I love how we can have these funny little exchanges even in the midst of a serious moment like this.

"Best ever," I agree.

Nothing—no card, gift, or thoughtful gesture— could _ever_ top this one.

xx

After a quick nap for all three of us, it's time for Cece to arrive with my mom and sister. For obvious reasons, I am excited, but I'm also a little nervous. We have prepared her as best we can for this moment, but who knows how she will react when she sees her mama or dada holding and paying attention to a baby that isn't her. Our plan is to hand Phillip off to my mom, sit with Cece for a little while, and then introduce them. We're hoping she'll immediately love him, but just in case she gets upset, we have plans to bribe her with a new stuffed bunny because, apparently, that's how my parents got me to warm up to Penny.

"She'll love him," you assure me while coaxing a burp from Phillip. Oh my god. Look at you. I had forgotten how cute you look while holding a newborn. "I know she will."

And you end up being right, as you so often are when you are trying to keep me from worrying, because when Cece first enters the room, she immediately notices her brother and completely freaks out in the most adorable way.

"BAAAY-BEE!" She exclaims enthusiastically. "HI, BABY!"

Evidently, our plan for a gradual introduction isn't going to be necessary. Cece, in her pink _I'M THE BIG SISTER_ shirt, shows no hesitation in welcoming Phillip to our family, and once she is settled in my lap, we can't even get her to talk about what she did at Grandma's.

"Baby?" She asks.

"Yeah," you say gently. "This is Phillip. He's your little brother."

"Brudder," she repeats quietly, her face taking on a serious, contemplative look. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to make the connection between the word, the little boy in front of her, and the fact that just yesterday, "brother" meant the thing that kicked her from inside my belly.

"Yes. That's your brother. Remember when we talked about him before? When he was in my tummy?"

She looks confused, and I don't blame her because I've been pregnant and given birth twice now and still find the whole concept and process baffling.

"I know. It doesn't make sense to me either," I tell her, hugging her to me and kissing the crown of her baby shampoo-scented head. "But it means you're a big sister now, Cece. You're our big girl."

Now _that_ she understands. She cranes her neck to look at me and grins proudly, and I am suddenly struck by how much she has grown. It seems like it was just yesterday that we were down the hall in a different room with her, but now she's this sweet little one and a half year-old girl with curly blonde hair, the prettiest green eyes, and a personality all her own. She walks, talks, and exhibits little quirks that she inherited from each of us, and now she's a big sister, too.

I kiss her forehead, and then she goes back to watching her brother. I can't decide who to look at now, though. I want to see your face as you watch our babies together for the first time, I want to see how mesmerized Cece is, and I want to memorize every little detail of our newborn boy, but I can't do it all at once. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I can see Penny with our camera, and I know that we'll be looking at the pictures she takes for the rest of our lives. I don't even care that I'm wearing my glasses, no makeup, and a messy ponytail.

After a while, we exchange a '_wow, can you believe this?'_ glance, and then you ask Cece for her verdict.

"So what do you think, Cee? He's pretty cool, huh? Should we bring him home with us?"

She nods wordlessly, never taking her eyes off the baby, and then we silently laugh to ourselves because she seems to be just as smitten with Phillip as we are. This is going _way_ better than I thought it would, and suddenly, it gets even better when Cece turns to me and asks:

"Mama? Kiss uh baby?"

My heart swells, and I am instantly fighting tears before I can even begin to formulate an answer. If I look at you right now, I'm going to be a sobbing mess, but don't we have the most precious little girl?

"Of course, sweetie. We just need to be really gentle, okay?"

"'Kay," she agrees very seriously, and then I hold her as she leans forward to place a tender kiss on her brother's cheek in what might be the sweetest, most loving gesture I have ever witnessed. It takes my breath away. I'm not even exaggerating. And then just when I think this moment couldn't possibly get any better, our little girl decides to completely knock it out of the park when she murmurs, "Luh you, baby," while softly patting his tummy.

She _loves_ him. Did you hear that? We didn't even prompt her. She said that all on her own, Jim.

You look at me, and you are absolutely beaming. I can see the tears shining in your eyes, too, and now, I just can't hold back. This feels like the culmination of everything we have been through together. All the good and all the bad have led to this beautiful, _perfect_ moment that I never could have imagined. And yes, when we get home, Cece might be jealous, and in the future, I'm sure they will fight and drive us crazy, but right now, I am the most content I have ever been (and that's saying something because you take really good care of me). We have everything now. We are complete. You have made me so happy over the last four and a half years, and this is the cherry on top.

It's also only the beginning.

I am so lucky.


End file.
